


you got some kind of nerve, taking all that i want

by silverhedges



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Force Ghosts, Secret Identity, kylo is still biologically han and leia's son, rey is not, space roadtrip, swapped!AU, there is no love triangle, warning: finn's true parent is assumed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverhedges/pseuds/silverhedges
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn is the Master of the Knights of Ren. Rey is the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo. Kylo is a Jakku scavenger.</p><p>After a chance encounter on Jakku, the three of them are drawn into an adventure across the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. everyone ends up alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: implied child neglect, depression, implied suicidal thoughts

Take a girl.

One girl. Maybe a princess, maybe a rich merchant, maybe a travelling actress known across the land. They’re never _normal_ people, the ones in fairytales. But it doesn’t matter what she does. What matters is where she’s going, because this girl is on a journey.

The journey takes her far and wide. One day she ends up climbing a hill, upon the top of which she finds the wreck of a crumbling room. Perhaps it once formed a castle, but all that is left is four broken-down walls. There is no roof. The sky is dusted pink overhead. In one wall, there remains two stone archways. Strangely, they are covered with a black cloth that shows no sign of wear and tear. In the middle of the room is a cracked stone table with stone chairs to match, all covered in moss and ivy. There is no dust upon the table.

It has taken the girl a long time to get to the top of the hill and she has been disappointed by what she has found here. So she sits upon the chair at the head of the table and rests herself. She is so tired that she falls asleep.

She wakes to music. All around her there is singing and the rushing of movement. It takes a moment for her to realise what she is seeing: girls dressed in swirling yellow satin, coming out of the arches covered by the cloth, twirling and spinning, singing as they do.

They carry plates of food, of kinds you would never believe. Buttered bread rolls, full roasted chickens, corn on the cob, baked potatoes, pasta in a cheese sauce, burgers spilling with lettuce, heaps of rice, sugar waffles with whipped cream, sliced fish, kebabs, oranges and watermelons, three-tiered chocolate cakes with strawberries on top, banana splits, lasagne, piping hot pizza, potato and meat stew, sushi, prawn, mushrooms, icecreams of every colour in the rainbow. Drinks, too: lemonade water, tea, hot chocolate, coffee, pink marshmallow frappuccino, strawberry and banana smoothie, juices of every fruit imaginable, coconut water, dandelion and burdock cordial, all the most unhealthy fizzy drinks you have ever drank.

The girls place them all along the table, whilst singing a high, loud, joyful song. The traveller girl herself stares, mouth watering, still thinking herself to be dreaming out of hunger. The smell is incredible. Then the movement begins to slow down, and then eventually stop. The yellow-dressed girls have seated themselves. One, with twinkling green eyes, speaks to the traveller, and she is kind.

The traveller feasts with the happy girls, all through the long dark night. The food is amazing and she is never too full. The girls are good company and they sing, and the air is filled with happiness. At dawn, the plates are littered with solely crumbs and the traveller is sated. She dozes off in her chair.

When she wakes, she is alone.

The traveller is loath to leave after that miraculous event. So she waits all day until the sky fades from blue to pink, and when the sun sets, there is a flutter of the black cloth. A singular girl dressed in yellow comes out of the archway, and her green eyes still twinkle. She is carrying one plate and one jug.

 _Where is the feast_ , the traveller asks.

 _Not today,_ the girl answers. _Bring me every jewel you can find, rubies and diamonds and sapphires. Every treasure. Once they all have been found, we will feast again and never stop._

So the next day the traveller searched and dug in the hillside, and she found a singular ring with a red jewel set in the centre. Perhaps there were once kings here, who had died long ago and dropped all their wealth to be covered by the earth. But that does not matter; it was before the traveller’s time; why is she paying for someone else’s sins?

The traveller brings this ring to the girl at sunset, who shakes her very own head in dismissal. _This is not enough,_ she says. _More._ Pause. _Will you do this for me?_

The traveller, longing for affection, says, _Yes. But when will we feast?_

_Not today._

So the traveller repeats the same process every day and is given the same answer every night.

_Not today._

_Not today._

_Not today._

Weeks pass. Months pass. Years pass. Decades pass.

One day, as what happens to all people, Death comes to the traveller. At sunset the reaper walks out of the other archway covered by black cloth, and holds out a skeletal hand to the wizened traveller. The traveller takes it, and goes with him. The girls are left to sing along on the hill with the ruined castle.

That is the end.

Or maybe not.

Because that’s _Rey_ , in a nutshell, but she is still breathing, still living, and this is a girl who will never take Death’s hand when the reaper comes for her. She still has hope.

…

Finn doesn’t know any fairytales.

Of course he doesn’t. Finn is born and bred First Order stock; best of the Stormtrooper generation, risen to become the Master of the Knights of Ren. He has given everything he has to Snoke. A twenty-three year long sentence has been served and he will do his obedient duty for the rest of his remaining life.

As long as Snoke’s attention is on him, that will be a very long life indeed. Snoke never lets his tools rust. Not until he does not have any use for them, and Finn is extremely useful. Finn is useful and he serves out the will of their Supreme Leader Snoke and he has no need for fairytales.

What is a fairytale? What do people say in one, what do they do, when do they tell them, why, why _why_ do they tell them –

“Ren, sir.” Phasma’s oddly metallic voice interrupts his thoughts. “We’ve arrived. My advice is that you stop daydreaming and actually perform your job.”

Finn’s mouth tightens, but no one can see it behind the mask. His voice is rough when he speaks, some effect he hates. “Then let’s _go_ already.” Go and get it over with. Jakku is a sand planet and everyone in the First Order knows how much Ren hates sand.

The ship jolts as the landing process is initiated. Inside is air-conditioned, cool air wafting through the cotton of Finn’s layered outfit, but the outside will be so _humid_ and wearing all black never helps with the blazing sunlight. It’s not like he _wants_ to wear black. This is his uniform. (At least he looks good in it?)

“No, sir. We’ve received some, ahem, dispiriting reports from those already grounded.”

“Uh, what?”

“You might want to see for yourself, sir.”

With that, the door lifts up, letting in a gush of hot air. The mask tints his vision automatically, protecting him from the light blinding him as he steps out. (What would that blue sky look like without the mask?)

He was right. It’s so sandy. Ugh. Sand, sand and nothing but sand.

Which is not what he needs.

There’s signs of a hurried departure as he walks around what is left of the village. Bags of waste rotting on the ground. Tent pegs still stuck in the ground. Emptied barrels left on the ground. There are rows and rows of where desert crops must have been. They’ve been uprooted. In the dirt Finn spots something black and dusty. He picks it up, finding a doll of a girl dressed in black with an awkwardly stitched smile.

Finn stuffs the doll into his pocket before Phasma can notice.

Two squadrons of Stormtroopers are also searching the ghost village. They divide before him, not wanting to be in his way as he returns to where Phasma stands by the ship. They’re both wearing masks and yet somehow Finn has the feeling that her chrome-coloured yacht armour is _judging_ him.

“No sign of the old man, huh.”

“None, sir. He may have been pre-warned. What do you suggest we do? Of course, if you have no creative ideas, I have plenty.”

Finn shakes his head, heavy and slow with the mask’s weight. “No. I actually have ideas of my own, Phasma.” _I don’t just do what Snoke tells me to_ —no, get your head straight. Focus. Job. “I know what we’ll do.”

The Force is a slow, heavy drudge in his veins. It feels like the aftertaste of liquorice, like black treacle stuck behind his teeth, the daze in his head when waking up from an unexpected nap. The Force sleeps. The dark overwhelms. Sometimes he has an instinct, to reach out to something beyond himself, to ask _what should I do?_

But there is never any answer. So why ask?

“Find the next village,” he orders. “I’ll go in myself and make them give up the location of the Church of the Force. I can be quite… persuasive, as you know.”

A thrill shoots through him. This is Finn’s favourite part.

…

Unhappy.

Unhappy unhappy unhappy. Miserable. Dismayed. Downcast. Glum. Sorrowful. Dejected. Heavy-hearted.

Look up those words in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of Kylo next to them: tall, angular, with soft hair and a bleeding-eye stare. Always on the verge of crying.

He’s lying down in his bed. The light is a constant thin line on the dust of his windowsill. He stares at it, looking just for the sake of looking. He’s blocked up all the windows, letting himself lie in the dark but nothing can really block the sunlight on Jakku. It’s a hopeless fight. The encased room has heated up and now he can barely get up. Kylo dozes somewhere on the edge between waking and sleeping.

He doesn’t have to look over at the scratches on the wall to know how long he has been here. This is the eight thousandth, four hundred and ninety second day. Twenty three years and three months. There are no words he can say to comprehend how long that has been.

Kylo is waiting. Waiting for something. Maybe for a reason to get up. Maybe for a reason to not just cry and cry and cry until he’s so dehydrated that he falls into a sleep from which he will never wake. Understand this. Sadness and death are just the grains in the desert of his soul, the metal that forms the ship of his heart. He can no more stop feeling what he does than he can leave this planet.

His mouth is dry. He knows, in a distant, logical way that his stomach is hurting. Hungry. Need food.

Is this the life he has to lead? Sleep, eat, work? Is this really what he has to continue doing for the rest of his life? Then why is he even—

 _Hush_ , says the ghost. _Get up, kiddo. You can manage that, right? Two feet on the ground._

Kylo never even tries to say no. Instead he pushes himself up onto his elbows, arms protesting, eyelashes cloggy with sleep-dust. He blinks. Yawns, slow and wide.

 _C’mon, c’mon, up you get._ The ghost’s voice is soft and encouraging.

Kylo opens his mouth to say _I’m doing it_ but finds that his mouth is too dry for his lips to make the sound.

_Drink some water._

Kylo reaches out a hand to the carton at the bedside, scrabbling. On the second try he secures his hand around it and lifts it to his mouth. The water is almost hot and tastes like sticking forks in his mouth, but he drinks greedily. When he’s finished, he whispers out, “I had a strange dream.”

Kylo doesn’t like to hear his own voice. In the room, it sounds too loud, too alive.

 _What was it about?_ The ghost turns envious. _I would love to have a wacky dream about capturing a zoo of icecream or whatever. You don’t dream when you’re dead._

Kylo frowns down at his knees. “There was a girl,” he says, half-dazed still. “And a boy. And a man. I think there was an ocean.”

The ghost doesn’t reply. Kylo lifts his head to look up at him. The blue lines of the ghost’s frown blur together. After all these years, Kylo still does not know the ghost’s name. He never intends to ask. Kylo just doesn’t care.

(Kylo does not know that their frowns mirror, that the curls of his own hair match the curls of the ghost’s. He does not realise that they are nearly the same height.)

 _Let’s go dust off some junk and get something to eat_ , says the ghost. Then quieter, _you know, you aren’t alone here. You have me._

“I know,” Kylo says blankly, and then sighs. “Let’s go, then.”

…

Rey is alone on this particular mission.

She doesn’t really mind. It’s already turning out that she needs a bit more of finesse than she originally expected. And she doesn’t need anyone along to – to judge her, to spy on her. To go back and spread rumours among the entire force that the Resistance’s second-best pilot can’t do her job right.

(To go back and tell Mum and Dad that –)

Besides, she’s used to it. She’s always alone, ever since what happened Six Years Ago. She’s used to it. Rey is completely and utterly used to it and she doesn’t mind being alone at all. Nope.

But it is so hot here, on this planet. She wouldn’t mind living here for a while (look at all those scattered ships!) but it would take some time to get accustomed. It certainly isn’t a planet anyone would want to spend the rest of their life on. Rey doesn’t imagine that anyone who has the resources and the will to get off this off-the-grid planet stays here any longer than they have to.

That might have been what happened to Lor San Tekka. Rey doesn’t know why the entirety of the village apparently decided to up and disappear during the night, but she’s damn sure she has to find out.

There’s no way Rey is going to go back to Mum and tell her that the one person who has a map to find Uncle Luke again has gone off into the galaxy and she can’t find him. Rey thinks of the expression on Mum and Dad’s faces if they heard that and just. No.

A sudden thought comes to her: what if Lor San Tekka just doesn’t come back? If there’s no trace? If he’s gone off to bring the entire Church to where Uncle Luke is without telling anyone how to follow them?

Her worry leaves a cold hard feeling in her stomach. Rey clenches her staff tightly. No. She can find someone in this trader camp that can at least tell her when the last time they saw San Tekka was. An entire village can’t just go off without _someone_ seeing them.

She enters the camp, arching her head to examine the architecture of the arch above her.

Rey passes from person to person, asking, “Have you seen where the village a few miles from here went—“ but she’s faced with an at best sneering reaction. Most of the times she can’t get the full sentence out before getting a weapon shook in her face, or cursed at, or pushed away.

There are drawbacks to being a famous Resistance pilot. Like the negative reactions in the Outer Rim, in the Core planets – come to think of it, the only place the Resistance have a good reaction is to citizens being attacked by the First Order. And even that wears off quickly once they’re reminded of who the Resistance is run by.

Ever since Six Years Ago, the name of Skywalker is like saying you’re a cannibal who steals from their grandmother. No, _worse_ than that. Rey didn’t ask to be born into this family, but it’s not like she can un-birth herself from them. She’s in this for good.

She has Han’s eyes, doesn’t she? (Well, a little bit lighter.) She has Leia’s hair. (Well, a little bit wavier.) She has Luke’s olive skin. (Well, what does that even _mean_?)

Her thoughts are broken by a sudden punch to the gut, slipping her staff out of her grasp.

An attack.

Well, that’s just the kind of reception a Resistance pilot gets in a place like this.

…

There are moments that cannot be taken back. Some moments you might think back on, months and years later and think, _thank the Force I opened my mouth and talked to them._ Or alternatively: _I wish I had never met them._ Some moments that changed your life entirely.

This is one of them.

The Force is stirring. Like the first few notes of a melody, just warming up.

There is a girl. On one hot, lazy afternoon in a dusty village on a planet in the far-reaches of the galaxy, there is a girl and two boys.

The world is falling apart. After a thousand years of Jedi rule, the Jedi were destroyed. Then the Sith were destroyed. The Republic decayed into the Empire, which was divided and fell into pieces. Now the New Republic struggles to maintain control as the rise of populist movements flow across the stars.

Politicians talk and consult in high towers on Coruscant. Shadowy leaders scheme in the dark. For all their hard work, the fate of the galaxy comes down to this.

There is the boy. He is walking underneath the hot sun, dressed in a black suit, face bare.

There is the boy. He is sitting down in the shade, scrubbing at a ship-part, grime stuck underneath his fingernails.

There is the girl. She is being attacked by three Jakku scrappers – and she is beating them down with nothing else but a stick, her own strength and her anger.

Both of the boys notice. And they think _…oh._

_Oh, wow._

For the first time in six years, the Force sings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is an adaptation of a line from The Frey's You Found Me.
> 
> Tumblr is acefinnskywalker, please come ask me questions, especially about star wars theories!
> 
> Tips for clothing: Finn at the start is in Kylo's TFA outfit, at the end Luke's ROTJ outfit. Rey is wearing Han's ROTJ forest outfit. Kylo is wearing Rey's TFA outfit.


	2. where have you been all my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I do not believe  
> in love at first sight.  
> But god damn.  
> (Look at you.)” 
> 
> A Softer World, #1000

The sky is this brilliant shade of blue. Gorgeous. It’s amazing to just walk about, just being himself. To walk through the village, passing scavengers, none of which look at him. Their stare just slides off him – him, just another rogue in the wasteland! Oh man, oh man. Finn would love to just capture this moment in time somehow, the memory of the wind on his face. Take that wide sky, everlasting and horizonless, and draw it down on paper. (If he knew how to draw.)

Yeah, he’s free for a while. Sure, just until he finds a trace of the Church.

It can wait for a moment or two, can’t it?

Phasma isn’t here to watch him with that unchanging mask, nor Hux with his cutting remarks. Sure, his life is owed to the Supreme Leader, always has been (and he guesses always will be), but there won’t be any consequences for just looking around. Force, Finn loves going undercover.

Hah. Undercover, is this really what it’s called? It feels more like – no, no, he can’t finish that thought.

There is so much to _see_. There’s some stations where hard-eyed thieves scrub at their wares. Dusty tarp is strung up as roofs, massive corked cartons of water hanging in the shade. What’s the name of this place – outpost – is it Niima Outpost? Does that sound right? In the middle of the market there’s a giant metal hut with a man scowling out of the open shutter. Should he ask that man – but no, the scowl deepens on the stranger at Finn’s glance.

Finn avoids his gaze. He must return to the First Order soon, and while no one knows what he looks like, it just isn’t safe to bring suspicion to himself. His heart is heavier with that reminder. But why should it; the First Order is his life, Snoke’s will his sole duty, the Dark the only rhyme he knows –

Something catches his eye.

He turns, seeking it out. Across the market, there is a fight breaking out in the dust. It’s a blur at first and then he realises. A girl! Being attacked! So he rushes forward, and then – oh. Oh. This girl doesn’t need his help. Not remotely.

Oh, wow.

She’s brilliant.

_Ferocious_ , and she bites at her attackers and throws them to the ground. Up again they get, and she knocks them back down. Her stick is at the throat of one of them, and she’s saying something – and now that the distant action has stilled Finn realises who she is. His heart sinks. He _recognises_ her.

Brown hair in three buns. A long grey-green coat over a waistcoat and shirt. That’s the daughter of Han Solo, and more importantly, the daughter of Leia Organa. The Resistance’s golden girl. _Rey_. She could have been the next generation of Jedi. Finn has always wanted to meet her, but he imagined it would be in battle, not just by chance.

Finn knows what he has to do and it fills him with a sense of disappointment. Take her back to Snoke? No, he doesn’t want to. She seems so full of life. But not his will, but Snoke’s, is the one he obeys.

_But…_ an idea comes to him, flashing through his veins like stardust. No mask. No one knows he’s the Master of the Knights of Ren, including her! Finn can go up and talk to her and it will be – he’ll pass it off as – no, it _will_ be recon. Gathering information. On the enemy. Yup.

So he takes action, and walks right up to her, heart thudding. _I have a bad feeling about this._

Rey Solo is frowning down at her captive. There are strands of hair loose on her neck, too short to be wound up in her buns. “It better not be damaged.” Her voice is dark and underlined by anger and he didn’t expect that from someone like _her_.

“What’s damaged?” He doesn’t even think before he speaks.

Her gaze lands on him.

(Oh. Her eyes are a light brown and it’s like… he’ll dwell on this later. There’s something singing in his soul.)

To his faint surprise, she doesn’t look suspicious of him. She doesn’t rat him out immediately. She doesn’t accuse him of being the Master of the Knights of Ren. Instead she replies with, “The Millennium Falcon,” and turns her considering gaze back to the squirming would-be attacker lying in the dust.

“Your father’s ship?” Finn yelps.

Rey looks back at him sharply, a line between her brows. “How did you _know_ that?”

Finn swallows and waves his hands. “You’re pretty famous,” he says. “Rey Solo, right? Who wouldn’t know you? You’re a myth in the making.”

Rey’s mouth curls and _oh no she’s sussed him out_ , and she breaks into a soft and wide smile. Finn can’t help but smile back. Oh man. This is bad. “I guess I can’t go anywhere without people knowing where I am,” she muses.

“Kylo!” gasps out the attacker.

“What?” They both say in unison.

“Kylo, a scavenger, he knows _all_ about the Falcon, Plutt had him working there. Ask him, not me! Just let me go. Please.”

Finn wouldn’t have let him go. He wouldn’t have been able to. He keeps his attention on Rey and notes how her eyes soften. After a pause, “Point him out to me. Or describe him.”

“Uh, he’s black-haired, I saw him over by the scrubbing tables, tall, wears white –“ the attacker’s voice jerks off as Rey relents the staff and lets him up. He scrambles up and makes off instantly. Rey shakes her head after him.

Rey starts off, heading two steps towards the tables, before she spins on her heel to face him. Finn who had followed without thinking, almost stumbles into her. Rey’s look is piercing. A thought comes to him that she looks just like the pictures he’s seen of Leia Organa.

“So what do you want? Who _are_ you?”

Finn hesitates. “I’m Finn,” he says, trying to damp down the flash of _can’t say that_ , because in the First Order no one is allowed names and Finn is someone he keeps to himself. There’s a radio burning in his pocket. The First Order could be here any second if he wanted. “I’m just travelling the galaxy. I’ve heard of you, so I wanted to see what you were… up to?”

Her eyes are dark and for a moment he’s afraid he’s through, he’s done, but then she tilts her head and asks, “Is it fun?”

“What?”

“Travelling the galaxy. Is it fun? Just doing whatever you want?”

Oh. Finn swallows. “Yeah,” he says, mouth dry. “It’s exactly what I’ve wanted to do, ever since I was a kid.”

“Huh,” Rey says, slow. A long moment of silence passes between them, but it isn’t awkward. She turns, going on, and calls over her shoulder, “Come on, then.”

Finn catches up and matches his pace to hers. Rey’s long coat is dusty where it drapes on the ground. He himself is beginning to sweat more in this black outfit and the heat. He’ll be glad to get off Jakku and into space again. “So what’s the deal with the Millennium Falcon?”

“It was stolen from my dad about…” Rey hums to herself for a second. “Five or four years ago. I saw it outside, here. It’s not my priority but I’m not… finding anything that I need, so I might as well get my dad’s ship back. Those attackers thought I was here for it.”

“You’ll need a pilot.”

She snorts. “I am a pilot. But I do need a mechanic. I don’t know if it’s in working order or not.”

“Him?” Finn says, looking past her. They stop.

He had been looking at them, when Finn had caught his gaze. A man sitting at a table, crammed into it because he’s so big. He wears dusty white clothing and his hair is black and curly. The stranger looks like a ghost. There’s a strangely cold feeling in Finn’s stomach. Perhaps he’s seen this guy before. In a nightmare, or a faint memory.

“Him,” Rey says, in a voice as strange as Finn feels.

The man – Kylo, this must be – is scrubbing at a ship-piece, or at least pretending to. He gives up the pretence as Finn and Rey draw near, setting the metal down on the table with a clunk. His head is bent, staring down at the piece. His hands rest on his thighs.

“Are you Kylo?” Rey asks in a quiet voice.

At that, he raises his head. His eyes are black and Finn is unnerved by the depth of emotion and yet the lack he sees in them. He looks as if he’s on the verge of tears and at the same time as if nothing matters to him at all. When he looks at them, it’s like he’s looking through them. As if they don’t matter at all. Just another two sparks of life in this universe.

The Force is strong with him.

“Yes,” he replies. “You want me to fix the Millennium Falcon.”

Rey opens her mouth, then shuts it. She and Finn share a glance.

“Never mind how you know that,” Rey says, although her slight frown says differently, “You are right. Do you know what’s wrong with it? One of the people here said you had… worked on it?”

Kylo drops his gaze back to the ship-part. Oddly, he then looks at an empty piece of air and although Finn follows his gaze he can’t see anything worth looking at. When Finn looks back, Kylo is addressing the ship-part in a mumble. “Plutt added a compressor that’s put stress on the hyperdrive, it’s preventing light speed travel, compressor needs to be removed and the ignition line repaired. You’d be better off rebuilding the engine for more power, but Force knows where to get parts for an engine that old…”

Kylo sighs, deep, his shoulders rising and falling. “I’ve got an ignition line container here,” and he lifts one hand and jabs a finger at the ship-part.

“So you’ll fix it for us?” Rey says, voice bright.

“…not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Kylo looks up at them, and his sudden glare is more than a little frightening. “If I give you this,” he says, every word well pronounced, “I don’t get to eat today. I was going to give this to Plutt in return for my food today.”

Finn’s heart softens a little. He can’t imagine not having anything to eat, or not having a roof over his head, or a bed to sleep in. The First Order and Snoke provide everything, and Finn is never wanting. The First Order is his life, Snoke’s will is his will, Luke Skywalker must remain lost or be destroyed –

His thoughts are cut off by Rey speaking, “What if I pay Plutt for your food?”

But Kylo shakes his head. “He won’t accept that. He likes the control the bargain system gives him. And I’m afraid,” his voice dropping into something like pity, “that he isn’t fond of the Resistance. You aren’t safe here, Rey Solo, and neither is your lieutenant.”

Finn jerks. “I’m not – I’m not part of the Resistance,” he stammers, heart beating a little faster. _He can’t betray Snoke. Won’t. Can’t. Will not._ The radio is in his pocket. Finn feels lightheaded, almost panicked at the thought of defecting. The consequences.

Rey just looks at him, out of the corner of his eye. He can’t look at her.

“You could be,” is all she says.

She crosses her arms when she returns her gaze to Kylo. “I need to…” her jaw clenches, “do some stuff. Here. So I need to come back here. What if I… say, what if you fix the ship for me and then I bring you to the nearest planet and get you something to eat and then you could come back here?”

Kylo is silent for a while. Finn takes the moment to try to slow down and stop his heart hammering out of his chest. Kylo glances back at the empty air and then closes his eyes. When he reopens and looks at them again, Finn’s breath catches in his throat. Kylo’s eyes are alive and full of wonder.

“You’re looking for _Luke Skywalker_ ,” Kylo says, the name as reverent as the Force itself.

“You’re looking for _Luke Skywalker_?!” Finn repeats, the pieces clicking together.

“Yes, I’m looking for _Luke Skywalker_ ,” Rey snaps, anger strong in her voice.

“Yes,” says Kylo.

Finn isn’t sure what he’s answering.

“Yes,” Kylo nods. He’s sitting up straight. “I’ll go with you.” After a moment’s silence, he offers, “I do know something. Before they left, Lor San Tekka…”

“Lor San Tekka?!” Finn bursts out, feeling very lost and on the right track at the same time. Rey gives him a sharp look and Finn instantly quiets. Shit. He’s not meant to know anything about that around someone who’s evidently after the same thing.

“I’ve always wanted to meet someone from the Church of the Force,” he offers.

Rey is quiet, mouth pressed into a thin line. Her eyes flicker between the two men. Finn desperately wants to know what she’s thinking inside that head of hers. Does she think he’s suspicious?

Kylo speaks up. “Take me to a different planet and I’ll tell you what I know. Even just leave me there. But I’ll tell you once I’m sure you won’t do anything _bad_ with that information.”

“Bad?” Rey asks, voice tinged with outrage. “What’s bad about finding my uncle? My flesh and blood? My family?”

Kylo looks away. “Luke Skywalker doesn’t want to be found.” That is all he says on that.

“Right, right,” Finn raises his hands. “So let me get this straight. Kylo – you want to get out of here to get something to eat, and once you do you’ll tell us where Lor San Tekka is. Rey wants to know that and wants to get her ship fixed. So are we gonna go find Lor San –“

“Why do _you_ want to come?” Rey interrupts. When Finn looks at her, heart in his mouth, all he sees in her eyes are curiosity. But what does she see in his eyes?

He shouldn’t go. If he’s going after the Church of the Force, he should do it officially as the Master of the Knights of Ren. Hux wouldn’t approve, as it’s going beyond the power invested in Finn. Phasma wouldn’t approve, as it’s disregarding all her trained spies. Snoke wouldn’t approve because Finn is meant to be by his side, being his will, instead of worlds away without a mask and using the wrong name. If he doesn’t inform them, he could be said to be consorting with the enemy instead of spying on them. The consequences of that are – Finn doesn’t want to think about that.

“Finn?”

He swallows his fear down.

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” is all he says.

Rey looks at him for a moment. Finn can’t tell anything from her blank expression. Finn looks to Kylo, who’s studying him while chewing his lip. Are they suspicious? Do they trust him? Are they even meant to? (Finn isn’t allowed to trust them. If trust is something that can be controlled.)

At long last, Rey shrugs. “Well,” she says, “Let’s go, boys.”

…

The Millennium Falcon is pretty damn cool, but Finn is still a little overwhelmed. He is in the enemy’s ship. He can’t help but feel nervous. Rey took them on board and went with Kylo to the pilot’s seats to fix the compressor or engine or whatever. Now they’re flying, well on their way to whatever planet Kylo wants to eat at. Finn knows nothing about ships or how to fly one. The Master of the Knights of Ren wasn’t trained for anything as lowly as that.

He could spin a lightsaber like nothing else (a lightsaber that is, currently, tucked into an inner pocket of his black jacket), he could Force choke people, tap into the Dark energies of the Force and yet he cannot fly a ship.

Finn sneaks off to go crouch in one of the rooms, far away from earshot of Rey and Kylo. There he jabs at his radio until it crackles into life. Holding it close to his mouth, he whispers into it, “Hey! Hey! Is anyone there?”

Static, and then a crisp, dry voice. “ _Ren. The Supreme Leader is going absolutely mad in your absence. Where have you_ been _?_ ”

Finn huffs. “Snoke going mad?” (although he doesn’t really doubt that), “Are you sure you aren’t just going mad with power, Hux?”

The ship swerves suddenly; Finn yelps as he’s thrown across the room and hits his head against the wall.

“ _Ren? What was that?”_

Finn, wincing, mutters, “Nothing. Look, I’ve got –“ Finn sucks in breath, finding blood on his fingers when he touches the side of his head. “I have a lead. On the Church of –“

The room rolls and Finn curses. When it stills for a moment he grabs onto the nearest bedpost and clings onto it for his life, radio jammed between his head and neck now.

“ _Where you are? What is happening?_ ”

“Just tell the Supreme Leader to give me time,” Finn hisses. “I have a lead on Lor San Tekka. I’m aboard the Millennium Falcon, I’m going to get the informa—“ he cuts off as the room does a 360 degrees spin. His stomach feels sick.

“ _…Millennium Falcon._ ”

“Yes!” Finn groans, impatient. The radio is quiet for a while, but Finn can strain to hear Hux making orders in the background. Oh, Force, he’s going to be tried to treason. He’s going to have a bounty. He’s going to have to live a life on the run for the rest of his years. Maybe he can go to the Outer Rim? Actually, he’d rather take that over being in this ship a second later.

The radio crackles. “ _I’ll talk to the Supreme Leader,_ ” Hux says reluctantly and Finn gapes because when does Hux ever give _him_ a break? “ _But report in later. And you_ better _get that lead, Ren, and get back here quick. Phasma isn’t happy either. Over._ ”

The radio fizzes into silence. Finn is left to reflect that no one in the First Order is ever really happy with him.

“Finn!” he hears a deep voice. “Finn! Finn! _Finn_!”

It takes a moment for Finn to click in and remember that that’s his actual name here. “I’m in here!” he yells out.

Kylo bursts into the room and it’s honestly a little intimidating. He’s a big man and there’s a wild look in his eyes. “There you are,” Kylo says, loud and vaguely relieved, and while it’s good to know that Kylo can act like a real person in a crisis it’s a little weird to see the difference.

Kylo leans forward with a hand to help him up and Finn takes it. The ship is still unsteady, room tilting, but Finn is close enough to see Kylo’s frown. “You’re bleeding,” Kylo says matter-of-factly and then tugs him along.

Finn is forced to hold onto him as they run down the corridor back to the cockpit. It turns out that Kylo takes the tactic of i’m-heavy-enough-to-run-down-the-corridor-fast-enough-to-not-fall-over. It’s like trying to hold on to a rocket.

They still make it to the cockpit. The first thing Finn is disturbed by is that Rey is sitting on one of the seats crosslegged, hands outreached in the air. She’s controlling the ship using the Force alone and not her hands. Finn doesn’t know why that disturbs him.

Rey twists her head around, her expression panicked, forehead creased. “Finn!” she says in relief. “Good, that’s everyone.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The First Order attacked us,” Kylo replies. “Rey fought back enough that they backed off. But we’re crashing onto the nearest planet.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Rey says. “I, for one, do _not_ want to crash.”

Finn, who knows that First Order ships never back off unless they’re ordered to, feels a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He is suddenly very glad that he called Hux. He swallows, watching the window and the brown-green blur of the planet appearing before them.

“What are we going to do?” Finn asks, voice a little thin, a little small.

A click sounds and Finn turns his head to see Kylo locking himself into some passenger seatbelts. The look in his eyes when their eyes meet is nothing like what Finn expected. He looks steady, determined, ready to handle the situation. Like something out of a fairytale. An odd thought comes into Finn’s head, some memory of an old picture he had seen, a picture of --

“We make a crash landing,” Kylo says finally. “Then we survive.”

Finn swallows. Then he goes to lock himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions raised, mysteries teased... ;) Next chapter will be from Rey or Kylo's perspective, or both.
> 
> Please comment regarding what you liked/your speculations/what you want, or perhaps your favourite line? Comments are always motivation to write more!
> 
> Hit me up on acefinnskywalker @ tumblr. I will answer any headcanon prompts, or questions about star wars theories. If you don't feel inclined to tumblring, then I will see you in the next chapter! //end markiplier ripoff


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